Curving Paths
by Mal3m
Summary: For some hobbits, the Scouring of the Shire brought more pain than peace...Frodo knows Pippin's lass is hiding something, but his fervor for the truth nearly leads him astray. Only in honesty can true healing begin and love grow. Notably revised!
1. Default Chapter

            **Title:**  Curving Paths  
  
            **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)  
            

            **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  
            **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

            **Note:** Never fear! In the first few chapters, this may seem like an OC-focused story, but certain canon females will be introduced in due time.                  

            **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly. 

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            Frodo eagerly glanced out the window as he swept the floor just inside the foyer of Bag End. Once he had finished, he made his way back to the kitchen to check on the rather large luncheon he was preparing.  
  
            He sighed when he found the main dish still uncooked in the middle, yet slightly burned along the top. 'Thank goodness for Rosie, he thought. If I had to cook all my own meals all the time, I might very well starve!'  
  
            At the moment Sam and Rosie were away for the week on a relaxing romantic getaway at a cozy inn in a nearby town. Lately Sam's duties had been more taxing than ever, as he traveled back and forth across the Shire, diligently leaving a trail of glowing saplings in his wake.

            Frodo, who was home much of the time now that Whitfoot had returned as Mayor, noticed how trying it had all been for Rosie, who always waited up as long as she could, praying for the sound of her husband's return until she fell asleep at the kitchen table.  
  
            When he had suggested a break from it all, the Gamgees had jumped at the idea and had all the plans settled almost immediately.  
  
            The next day they had headed out, Rosie leaving careful directions for Frodo's meals and Sam instructing him on how to water a wide variety of plants from his garden, adding with a whisper that Frodo was the only one he could truly trust with the task.  
  
            They had been gone for only a day when a message had arrived from Pippin, telling the inhabitants of Bag End of his upcoming visit to Hobbiton. His letter seemed even more lively than usual which Frodo guessed was the fault of the young lass who would apparently accompany him. Pippin didn't explain how they had met or even what their exact relationship was. In fact, Frodo realized, he hadn't even mentioned a name. The only specific information he had provided was that he would be arriving in three days time and would stop by for luncheon.  
  
            Frodo know Sam and Rosie would be sorry not to be there. 'In fact,' Frodo thought, smiling to himself, 'Pippin will be even sorrier to arrive to my own pathetic attempt at mushroom casserole instead of Rosie's famed cuisine.'  
  
            Still, from what he could gather, it seemed as though Pippin and his 'friend' were planning on an extended visit, so hopefully Sam would indeed get a chance to catch up with him when he returned.  
  


            He chuckled to himself when he imagined what the villagers would say were they to see him at that moment.  Because of his rather well-to-do status as a hobbit, as well as his former prestigious position, it would indeed seem quite shocking that he was actually working with own hands to prepare for the visit.  Any sensible hobbit would have hired a little help by now.  'Ah well,' he could practically hear the gossipers speak, 'He always was a peculiar one.'

            It was not that Frodo was averse to the idea of cook or perhaps a maid; no, he simply found the work, such as it were, energizing and if he were to be altogether honest, distracting from certain shadows that had been plaguing him of late.

  
            Breaking into his thoughts was the grate of a carriage on the gravel outside his door, and, after assuring himself that everything was in order, he rushed out the door to greet his old friend.

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            Thanks for reading so far.  Remember to review!


	2. Introductions

            **Title:** Curving Paths  
  
            **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)****

             **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  


            **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

             **Note:** I know it seems a little slow at first, but don't worry it'll really pick up in the third chapter. In the meantime, I just need to "lay down the foundations" so to speak. Also, please review this when you are done. If you are a fellow author, you know how much they are appreciated.        
  


            **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.

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             "Frodo!" The visiting hobbit exclaimed excitedly.  
  
            The two friends embraced, then pulled apart to look at each other.  
  
            Frodo could mark a definite change in Pippin, though later he found it difficult to describe. His eyes still bounced with an ill-contained mischief and a playful humor, yet he no longer exhibited the reckless abandon of his younger days. Maturity lined his face and gave him a slightly more dignified aspect that in years past. Naturally he now towered a good deal over Frodo as did Merry when he came to visit and that contributed to this sense. Still, Frodo could tell Pippin had grown more than physically throughout the years.  
  
            Pippin was examining Frodo as well. He looked much the same, same wide blue eyes, same dark curly hair, same cheerful grin. But was it just the light or did he look paler than before? Were those dark circles under his eyes a result of a short sleep the night before or months of weary days and evenings?  
              
             "You look well Pip," Frodo's voice broke into his thoughts.   
  
             "As do you Frodo. It does me good to see you again." He paused for a moment before continuing. "And there's someone that I would very much like for you to meet."  
  
            Frodo turned his eyes to the carriage as a pair of feet stepped down. When fully emerged, he saw the feet belonged to a lovely hobbit lass who was now shyly gazing up at him.  
  
             "Frodo," Pipin said, as he took the girl by his arm, "Allow me to introduce the lass who has promised herself to me, Ms. Jasmine Greenbarrow. Jasmine, this is Mr. Frodo Baggins."   
  
            He smiled as he shook her hand.  
  
             "I've heard so much about you, Mr. Baggins. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."  
  
            Frodo returned the pleasantries as his eyes scanned over his friend's future bride.  
  
            A pretty lass, she was, with a pleasant rounded figure, dark hair setting off creamy skin and striking eyes.  Her manner, Frodo noted, seemed a quiet sort, and he couldn't help but wonder whether she would help to settle Pippin down.  Then again, Frodo thought with a smile, chances are Pippin will rub off on her first.  
  
            Mindful of his manners, he broke away from his assessment and welcomed them into the house, serving tea and cakes while listening to Pippin explain how he and Jasmine had met.   
  
            Apparently Pippin knew her friend's brother from his various family connections and had been invited to a feast at the hobbit's house. There he was introduced to his associate's sister and her good friend, Jasmine. They had been drawn to each other immediately and spent the rest of the celebration together, dancing and laughing and generally making merry.  
  
            A mere four days later Pippin had taken her out for the first official time, and ever since then they were together as often as possible. When Pippin had been called to a town only a few miles from Hobbiton on business, he had considered it the perfect time to introduce her to his friends. He had apparently proposed to her in the carriage, not being willing to wait any longer, the words burning at the tip of his tongue for too long.  
  
            Frodo smiled when he heard this. 'Yes, still the same eager hobbit, never one for patience...'  
  
            When they sat down to the meal, Jasmine at first politely complimented the casserole. As she did, however, Pippin laughed aloud, making no secret of the fact that he had disposed of his first mouthful into his napkin.  
  
             "See, Frodo, she's quite a lady, isn't she? But don't worry, lass. Rosie'll be back soon and we can get you some proper food. Frodo never was one for cooking, like Sam."  
  
            The slightly embarrassed cook acknowledged this with a chuckle as he too pushed his plate away after a few distasteful bites.   
  
             "Don't worry yourself, Frodo, we can eat at the inn where we're staying tonight. It's my treat."  
  
            His host quickly protested. "Pippin, you're staying at the inn? You must stay at Bag End. I insist. Rosie would be horrified if she heard you two were in town and staying anywhere else."  
  
            Pippin readily agreed, and Frodo showed them to their rooms, two of the coziest and most well-furnished in Bag End.  
  
            After helping them to bring the rest of their bags in from the carriage, Frodo decided to take a walk to allow them to get settled in private. He quickly made up a list of fruits and vegetables that they were running low on, and after a brief stop in Sam's garden to replenish a few tomato plants, he headed down the path into town.  
  
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            Next chapter will be up soon, so keep checking. Please review, even if it is not entirely positive. I love encouragement, but I also welcome constructive criticism.


	3. A Trip to Town

            **Title:** Curving Paths  
  
            **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)****

            **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  


            **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

            **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.  
  
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            Frodo browsed through the market stalls, stopping from time to time to chat with neighbors and friends, enjoying the atmosphere of the town.  
  
            When he had returned from his journey, he had discovered that he had acquired a wonderful new appreciation of the Shire and the hobbits who lived there. Sometimes he would go out walking into town just to watch them go about their daily hustle and bustle, looking as if they had hardly a care in the world other than what they were having for supper that night. He envied them and admired them as well. When he observed these folk and interacted with them, he often felt, for a brief moment, as if he had been transported back in time, back when he was still just a curious, naive little hobbit begging his uncle and Gandalf to give him news of an outside world he longed to explore.   
  
            He knew he had sacrificed that innocent outlook on life when he had agreed to become the Ringbearer, and though this knowledge saddened him, it also did his heart good to witness firsthand the type of peaceful life he had given everything to preserve.   
  
            Lost in his thoughts, Frodo wandered through the market, stopping a few times to purchase supplies and absentmindedly looking through the various wares.  
  
            At one stall, he walked up to the sound of two older hobbit matrons talking as they did over an exchange, filling each other in on the latest gossip.  
  
            Without meaning to, he caught what sounded like the tail end of a conversation.  
  
             "She's here in Hobbiton? That good-for-nothing little wench! How dare she show her face here after what she did to my poor Lily!" This outburst came from a scandalized sounding, gray haired woman, who Frodo recalled as being Mrs. Sue Proudfoot.   
  
            He didn't know the other's name, though he recognized her from town. She was a tad taller than Mrs. Proudfoot, with auburn hair twisted into a tight bun.  
  
             "I know, dear, but maybe she didn't realize you all lived around here, though I'm not tryin' to give her any more credit than she deserves. She and Bo met at that party out a ways, near to Tookland, remember?"  
  
            Sue just nodded. "Still, if I see that little hobbit-stealin' harlot anywhere around here, I have a good mind to show her just what we think of her! I'd slap some respect into that hussy!" A large carriage rolled by just then, and Frodo missed her friend's reply, but when it passed he head Sue say,  
  
             "Another hobbit? So, it's not enough to steal Bo from right out under Lily's nose, but now she's working her charms on another hobbit? Well, he'll see soon enough what she's after. Just as soon as a green- and richer, might I add- pasture comes walkin' by, she'll be gone just as soon as you can blink!"  
  
            Frodo left after this, having bought the bread he needed. He shook his head and sighed. Didn't they have anything better to do than stand there and talk about other people's lives?   
  
            Still, he did briefly wonder who they had been discussing. A few months ago, he hadn't been able to help hearing how Lily Proudfoot's betrothed had left her for another lass, some stranger he had made at a festival of some sort. It had been the top news of the town for a week or so, but he never had learned who the lass was. He hadn't heard anything about it since then.  
  
            His mind wandered to different things as he headed back for home, remembering that Sam and Rose would be back in a mere two days. He knew they would be excited to see Pippin and to meet Jasmine.  
  
            He found the couple sitting close on the garden bench, laughing together as he approached.  
  
             "Well, Frodo, we've set a date. November 18, we're thinking. I've already spoken to Merry, but you'll stand with me also, won't you? Sam will too of course."  
  
             "Of course Pip, it sounds wonderful. A lovely autumn wedding."  
  
             "Pip's been telling me about the elves, Mr. Baggins, and he said he's planning on inviting King Elessar himself! A lass is jittery enough on her wedding day, without the added pressure of royalty in attendance!"  
  
            Frodo smiled. "Well, I'm sure Strider is much too preoccupied ruling his kingdom to come all the way to the Shire for the wedding of some measly halfling," he joked.  
  
            Pippin feigned offense. "What? He could make it to Sam's, but not mine? I knew it, he always did like the other's better! I was rather excitable back then, I suppose."   
  
            They were all laughing as they made their way inside for afternoon tea.   
  
            As Frodo set out the china, he noticed a glint on the table. Glancing up, he realized that its source was a large gem inset into a slender gold band wrapped around Jasmine's finger.   
  
            Seeing his stare, Jasmine smiled and said, "Lovely, isn't it, Mr. Baggins? Pippin's such a dear. I could hardly believe it when I saw him slide it on my hand.  It's like something out of a dream."  
  
             "Please, Jasmine, call me Frodo. And yes, your ring is quite beautiful."  
  
            Jasmine excused herself to freshen up, and Frodo took the opportunity to question Pippin.  
  
             "Pip, that jewel is rather staggering.  Are you sure it was a wise gift?"  
  
             "Oh, it was my mother's, from the family collection, you know. But Frodo, I told her the day I proposed that she is worth more than any jewel on Middle Earth, and I will not spare any expense to secure whatever her heart fancies."  
  
            The lass reentered the room then, so the conversation ended. As he observed the way Pippin obviously adored his betrothed, Frodo found himself wondering if he would ever find someone for whom he felt the same. He had gotten used to the interplay between Sam and his wife, but seeing this new couple, clearly still in the passionate giddy period of romance, struck a chord within him, so deep he barely recognized the feeling at first.   
  
            He was lonely. Yes, he lived with his best friend and this friend's wife treated him like a brother. But he longed for more, despite the impossibility of the whole situation.

             "Frodo?"  
  
            He jerked his head back to reality and realized he had missed a question from Pippin.   
  
             "I'm sorry, my mind was wandering. What did you ask?"  
  
            Pippin repeated himself. "I was just wondering when Sam will be back. Jasmine is eager to meet them."  
  
            Frodo gave himself a shake mentally, forcing himself to focus on the conversation. Still, the rest of the night, he felt something tug inside himself every time Pippin would touch Jasmine or she would lovingly pat his arm or stoke his back. When they announced that they were taking a walk for a while and Pippin added with a wink, "Don't wait up, Frodo," he had headed to bed, desperate to find solace in sleep from the growing ache in his heart.  
  
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            Thanks for continuing to read! Please remember to review!


	4. A Revelation

            **Title:** Curving Paths  
  
            **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)****

            **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  


            **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

            **Note:** Thanks to those who have reviewed so far. I think it gets a smidge more interesting in this chapter, so please read on...Also, I do like Diamond and if continue to read, you will see that she will yet be included in this story.     
  


            **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.

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            It was Friday, and Frodo was busy tidying up Bag End for the Gamgees who were to return later that day. Pippin was in town at the moment to see a few old friends, and Jasmine was resting in their room.  
  
            The depression that had seemed to overwhelm him the night before had thankfully faded a bit, and he was whistling, excited to have so many of his good friends under one roof. Jasmine had lent a hand in the kitchen, so there was a lovely-looking meal cooking, nearly ready to be set out on the table.  
  
            Steps came up behind him. He turned to see Jasmine smoothing her hair and straightening her blue cotton dress. She yawned, then smiled.   
  
             "Mmm, that felt good. Mr.-er, Frodo," she stammered, correcting herself. "I think I'm going to go for a walk; I'm feeling a little restless. Would that be all right?"   
  
             "Of course, Jasmine. Would you like me to go with you or would you rather go by yourself?"  
  
             "Oh, thank you, but I'm fine alone. I'll be back in about an hour."  
  
             "Have a nice time."  
  
            Frodo ran over a mental checklist, ticking off the various rooms he had seen to. 'Parlor, kitchen, my room, Sam's room, library...' He quickly realized he had forgotten to clean the room Jasmine was staying in, as he hadn't wanted to wake her earlier. After a brief moment of indecision, he decided to go ahead and tidy up a bit. Surely she wouldn't mind.  
  
            In her room, Frodo made the bed and swept the floor. He moved to gather any trash from the basket, when his eyes fell on a piece of paper lying on the floor. Picking it up, he flipped it over, his eyes scanning the page. After a moment, it became clear it was a letter Jasmine had written to a friend back home.  
_  
_            _Dear Ruby,  
  
_            _Congratulations on your success! That necklace sounds absolutely divine. You must hold on to that one, though his name escapes me. You asked me about Bo, and let's just say the attraction faded, if you know what I mean. He told me he was going to be made partner, but he lost out to a mere lad! Needless to say, I was forced to end things before they went any farther.  
  
_            _I do, however, have excellent news! You remember the one I told you about, the one Lucy introduced me to at her party? Well, she was right about his "situation." He's a Took and a rich one at that. He asked me last week, and I've accepted. We are currently visiting a friend of his, and neither seems suspicious. On the whole, everything is going quite well.  
  
_            _Oh, and have you heard from Bella lately? Last I heard she was engaged to that Bill from Bucklebury.   
  
_            _Please write back soon.   
  
_            _Sincerely yours,   
  
_            _Jasmine Greenfarrow_  
  
  
  
            Frodo stood aghast after he finished, reading it over one more time to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks on him. Why was she writing her friend about Pippin's financial status, and what did she mean no one was suspicious?  
  
            Suddenly he sat down on the bed, a full realization finally hitting him. Had she mentioned a Bo? She must be the one the two women had been gossiping about the other day! What kind of trick was this?   
  
            Jasmine was the girl who had seduced away Lily Proudfoot's betrothed. And from the way things sounded, it hadn't been the first or last time. What was Pippin in for?  
  
            He was nearly in shock. She had seemed so sweet and unassuming, so adoring of Pippin. How could they have been so blind?  
  
            Any guilt that he may have felt over inadvertently snooping around in Jasmine's private things flew out the window with the rush of anger he felt towards her. She had Pippin wrapped around her little finger! Hadn't the hobbit himself told him that he would spare no expense to buy her whatever she desired?  
  
            He knew he had to tell Pippin as soon as possible. He had no idea how he would break the news to his friend, but all he knew was that he had to know before things got worse. He didn't know what would be worse: her breaking off the wedding for no reason when she became bored or unsatisfied or going through with the wedding and binding herself to him forever. But just as quickly as the thought entered his mind, he knew the answer. He had to stop Pippin from marrying Jasmine, and preferably before word even got out that they were engaged.  
  
            He was deep in thought when there was a knock at the door. Expecting his friends and eager for someone to confide in, he was disappointed when he opened the door to find only a young messenger, who informed Frodo that he had a message from Sam.   
  
            Frodo ripped open the envelope to discover that they had decided to stay an extra day at the inn and to expect them early the next afternoon.  
  
            He sighed, then turned his step resolutely toward town. He had to find Pippin.  
  
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            Like it? Hate it? Please direct any opinions into your review. Thanks for reading!


	5. An Explanation

            **Title:** Curving Paths  
  
            **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)****

            **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  


            **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

            **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.   
  
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            Upon arriving in town, Frodo questioned a few hobbits conversing outside a dimly lit pub and learned from them that Pippin was inside.  
  
            He was greeted by a few acquaintances as he entered but failed to see Pippin at first. He wound his way to the back corner and caught sight of him laughing and singing in a crowded booth.  
  
            Pippin glanced up and noticed Frodo, greeting him cheerfully, "Why, it's Frodo! Frodo, let me order you an ale, give me a moment!"  
  
             "No, no, Pip. That's alright. I was simple wondering if I could talk to you alone for a bit."  
  
             "Well, alright, Frodo, but are you sure you want to be passin' up a mug? It's not so bad here. Almost as fine as the Pony, eh?"  
  
            Frodo accepted an ale to appease his friend, then led him to an enclosed booth by the fireplace.  
  
             "Pip," Frodo began when they were both seated, "I have something to tell you." He paused, uncertain how to continue.  
  
             "What is it, Frodo? Has something happened to Sam?"    
  
             "No, no, Rosie and Sam are fine." He drew a deep breath. "It's you I'm worried about. Pip, Jasmine is not who you think she is."   
  
            To Frodo's surprise, he thought he saw a fleeting look of panic flare in Pippin's eyes, but it was gone in a moment, and Pippin leveled him with a quizzical gaze of almost apathetic confusion.  
  
             "I'm afraid she does not share the feelings you have for her." The next few sentences came out in a hurried jumble. "I was cleaning her room and I saw a piece of paper on the floor and I didn't know it was a letter, but it was from Jasmine to some lass named Ruby. She only wants your money Pippin. She doesn't truly love you."  
  
            Pippin was silent for a few long minutes. Frodo was shocked at how well he seemed to be taking it. Maybe Pippin had matured more than he had guessed.  
  
            Suddenly his friend began to speak quietly, his eyes averted downward where they examined the ale sloshing in his mug. Frodo had to lean forward to catch the softly spoken words.  
  
             "I have to say I'm not surprised Frodo. I've noticed clues here and there, so no, I'm not surprised. I suppose I just never really expected this of you."  
  
             "Of me!" Frodo leaped to his feet in confused indignation. "I'm sorry I was snooping, but it wasn't purposeful and-"  
  
            Pippin cut him off, a hard tone added to his voice. "Look Frodo, just stop. You and I both know there was no snooping because there was no letter. I'm sure you're lonely, but I'll not have you insulting my lass."  
  
            Frodo protested loudly, pleading with his friend to believe him. "Pippin, I am not lying to you! I don't understand why you won't trust my word! I'm part of your family, your _friend_, and yet you have only recently met Jasmine. Why would you favor her word over mine?"  
  
             Rather than attempting to out-shout his cousin, Pippin's voice remained low and cold. "I know what you're trying to do Frodo, but don't.  Don't try to involve yourself in things which do not concern you and that you do not understand."  
  
            Frodo was beginning to feel desperate. "Don't understand? Pippin, it was as plain as the nose on your face! Have some sense, for once!"

            He regretted his wording the moment it left his mouth, but Frodo held out hope that it would shock his friend into belief.  

            No such luck.

            Pippin slammed his mug on the table, a look of mixed frustration and agitation clouding his figures.  He leaped to his feet, grabbed his cloak from the booth, and stalked past the table, leaving Frodo with his head buried in his hands. But as he passed, a word reached his ear, quiet and pleading: _"Please."_

            He turned, but Pippin was gone, and the sound of a carriage soon sounded, retreating into the night.  
  
              
  
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            Please review! Come back soon for the next chapter if it's not already up when you read this!


	6. Friendly Advice

            **Title:** Curving Paths  
  
            **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)****

            **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  


            **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

            **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.  
  
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            By the time Frodo returned to Bag End, it was plain Pippin meant to leave immediately, their carriage left in front, various cases piled in its seats.  
  
            He pulled Pippin aside on one of the younger hobbit's luggage trips back and forth from their rooms.   
              
             "Pippin. Don't do this. I'm sorry I broke the news so suddenly. Maybe I should have waited or talked to you at a better time. But I will not back down from my accusations. I know the truth about her, and I give you my word that this is not the result of any jealousy I may be harboring. Come, now. You know me, Pippin."

             "Frodo, trust me when I say that this will be best for all of us.  We will visit Sam when they arrive."  
  
            The authoritative tone made is clear that the conversation was over. Frodo merely sighed, and shook his head.  
  
            It seemed as if Pippin had not informed Jasmine of the nature of their disagreement. 

             She approached Frodo, saying, "I'm dreadfully sorry we had to leave so soon." There was an awkward pause, as though she could not think of anything else to say. With a weak smile, she added, "Shall I return to fix breakfast on the morrow?"  
  
             "Please," Frodo replied, half intentionally allowing a somewhat sharper tone to tinge his words. "I believe you've done quite enough already."  
  
            Her face remained blank, but Frodo thought there was a touch of sorrow in her bowed head.

             "Come, Jasmine, we must see if we can reach the inn at a reasonable hour."  
  
            She recovered herself, and after thanking Frodo for a lovely stay, she followed her betrothed into the carriage, and they drove off down the road and out of sight.  
  
  
  
  
            Early the next morning Frodo awakened to the sound of wheels on the dirt road outside Bag End. After quickly dressing, he rushed outside to welcome the returning Gamgees.  
  
            Sam and Rose greeted him happily. Frodo noticed the difference between the mood they had left in and the mood in which they had returned with gladness. Clearly the brief respite from the daily grind had served them well. Each appeared more fresh and cheerful then he had seen them in a long time.  
  
            Rose excused herself to go freshen up after their rather lengthy journey. Sam grinned at his friend, saying,   
  
             "I tell you, Frodo, that was some idea you had, us going on a retreat and all. I haven't seen Rosie that happy in a long while. You should have seen her, she was acting just as if we had been married the day before, if you take my meaning," he explained, blushing. "I've set my mind to rest here in Hobbiton for a time.  It's been real hard on us both of late."  
  
            Frodo smiled at his friend, pleased that the trip had worked out so well. Rose came in just then, and soon they were sitting around the table enjoying luncheon, laughing together as the couple recounted various stories of their week off.   
  
             "So Frodo," Rose questioned him after a while, "What have you been up to with Bag End all to yourself?"  
  
            He paused, wondering how much to share with them. "Actually, I had visitors for much of the time..."  
  
            They were both full of questions as Frodo explained about Pippin's vague letter and visit, being especially curious about Jasmine. At first, he merely described her and how she had met Pippin, but soon he couldn't help himself. Desperate for guidance, he poured out the story to his friends, from the overheard conversation at the market to her letter to Pippin's reaction to his accusations. They interrupted every now and then with a question, but when he finished, they were silent, exchanging glances with each other across the table.  
  
            Frodo was gripped with a sudden panic. If Pippin hadn't believed his story, who's to say that Sam wouldn't as well? Obviously they all thought he was a little off-his-rocker already, but what would he do if everyone turned against him? Was there anything he could do?  
  
            He was relived to find his fears unbased when Sam finally said, "Well, what should we do? Do you think it would do any good for one for one of us to talk to him?"   
  
            Rosie replied, "I don't think so. After all, he would simply say that we listened to Frodo's story and believed him. It's not as if we have any new proof that he didn't have."  
  
             "Speaking of proof," Sam interjected, "Whatever happened to that letter, Frodo? If we could show Pippin that, then it seems like that'd put this lass in her rightful place."  
  
             "I know, but I left in such a hurry that I didn't think to do anything with it after I read it through. Besides, I didn't want to arouse her suspicions before I talked to Pippin, so I left it right where I found it. By the time I got back home from the pub, they had packed everything. Their room's empty, I checked."  
  
            They were all silent for a few minutes. Finally Rose said, "Well it seems to me that Pippin is going to refuse to listen to any of us, so he is a rather lost cause at the moment. Why not go straight to the source, if you know what I mean. I believe the only thing we can do is confront this Jasmine with all we know."  
  
            The men nodded, and Frodo said, "The thing to do is visit her when Pippin isn't around, or else he'd never let me get close to her. I suppose one of you could pull her aside when you meet her, but I doubt that would do much, seeing as how you would have only just met, and there probably will not be a minute she is not attached to Pippin." He paused to think for a moment. "I guess the our only option is for me to talk to her by myself. If I could only get her to confess or at least scare her away, then that would be enough. All I know is I won't let her hurt Pippin."  
  
             "And now that I put my mind to it," he continued, "I believe Pip has some sort of meeting tomorrow evening. I shall confront her then."  
  
                                                            ****************  
  
            Hope it's okay so far! Remember I don't mind criticism, so please review.


	7. The Confrontation

             **Title:** Curving Paths  
  
             **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)****

             **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  


             **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

             **Note: **Thanks for reading so far. Please review when you finish!

             **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.  
  
                                                            ****************  
  
             "Excuse me, sir, I'm looking for the young lass who arrived with Mr. Took last evening?" Frodo asked as he craned his head to look at the innkeeper, who was bent over paperwork at the moment.  
  
            Finally turning, the elderly man exclaimed, "Why Mr. Baggins, how can I be of service to you? I didn't realize it was you there, I would have been come right over if I had known."  
  
            Frodo smiled. "Olo, I didn't know you were an inn-keep now," he replied. "Whatever happened to that little pub you were opening up in Loamsdown?" With a mischievous grin, he continued, "Didn't you say it was the perfect spot? I thought the fellow who sold it to you promised it would turn a profit..."  
  
            Olo's eyes crinkled warmly at his old friend's nephew. When the young Baggins had returned from his journey, Olo had struck up a friendship with him, and they had soon become quite close. He seemed to sense how Frodo missed Bilbo's presence, and he liked to think that he could act as almost a substitute for the hobbit, as he and Bilbo had once been good friends.  
  
            Olo and Frodo often would spend hours talking about Bilbo's adventures and the marvels of distant lands, yet they rarely discussed Frodo's own journey, save the occasional description of the elves he had encountered. Olo had once questioned him about the Ring and the land of Mordor, but at the mere mention of the word, Frodo had visibly paled and had become quiet and pensive the rest of the afternoon. That day, Olo often observed Frodo gazing solemnly out a nearby window, his eyes seeming to search fruitlessly for unknown horizons.   
  
            After that, Olo had steered clear of any conversation that might upset him further, and so their talks were often lighthearted and fun. Olo would often tell Frodo of his latest idea for a new business, none of which ever amounted to much or lasted for long.   
  
             "Well," he answered slowly, "Perhaps it wasn't such a good location after all...Anyway, you know Hambitt Danders, Finnlock's friend? Well, his cousin owns this place, and he's lettin' me work here til somethin' better comes along."  
  
            Frodo nodded in understanding. He had become friends with Olo's son Finn almost immediately after they had been introduced a few months before. The young hobbit was cheerful and fun to be around, though he sometimes became quite shy around members of the fairer sex. Finn's carefree and joking manner often reminded Frodo of Pippin in his younger days, though he was indeed notably less outgoing around the ladies. At this thought, Frodo broke out of his reveries and repeated his initial question to Olo.  
  
             "Olo, do you happen to know which rooms Pippin and his friend are staying in? I believe he came in sometime last night."  
  
             "Why yes, I believe I did see Mister Took arrive indeed, with quite a lovely lass on his arm. If Pippin wasn't such a close friend of yours, I might have tried to win her for myself," the gray-haired hobbit commented playfully with a wag of his eyebrows.   
  
            Frodo laughed at this, and thanked Olo as he informed him that the couple was staying in rooms 12 and 14 on the second floor.  
  
            After making his way up the musty stairwell, Frodo turned right and checked the door numbers.   
  
            8...10...12...14. It was the corner suite at the end of the hallway; Pippin obviously had thrown some weight around to get such decent accommodations at such late notice.  
  
            He had learned from the porter that Pippin had left for his meeting within the last half-hour, so Frodo guessed he had a good while before he returned. He could only hope Pippin had not yet told Jasmine of his accusations or else why would she let him in?  
  
            When she first opened the door, she seemed surprised, almost frightened, at Frodo's presence, but she soon welcomed him in graciously, nervously rushing to make tea for them to share.  
  
            He stepped in through the doorway and surveyed the living area. It was cozy and comfortably furnished with a welcoming fire burning in the fireplace and candles lit on the mantle.    
  
            As Jasmine turned to fill the teacups on a tray by the table, Frodo studied her profile, wondering if he had missed any tell-tale sign of deceit. Her dark hair spilt down her back in languid curls. Though he knew she was a master of seduction, she gave nothing away with her modest violet dress that reached well above her ample bosom. The firelight sparkled in her dark eyes, and her lips were pouted pertly as she concentrated on controlling the rather unwieldy teapot.  
  
            All in all, she made quite an attractive picture; As she stood there preparing the food, Frodo could well imagine her playing the part of the happy wife, content to serve her husband after a hard day of work. 'Provided, of course,' Frodo added mentally, 'that his labor supplied her with all the jewelry and financial means her heart desired...'  
  
             "Well, Frodo, how are you doing all alone in Bag End?" she asked, turning around with a smile and jolting him from his thoughts. "Are you managing to survive on your own cooking?"  
  
            He smiled half-heartedly and explained to her of the Gamgees return. She seemed quite eager to meet them, "Sam being such good friends with Pippin and all."  
  
            Jasmine handed him his tea and took a seat on the small couch beside him.   
  
            Crossing her legs demurely as she sat, she reached out and stroked his shoulder, saying, "Pip's so lucky to have friends like you and Sam." She laughed. "You should hear the way he talks about you. I probably know more about you than most people, and I've only just met you for the first time."  
  
            Frodo clenched his jaw.

             "Look, Ms. Greenbarrow, let's get to the meat of things here. I know all about your little charade, and I'm prepared to go to any length to keep you away from Pippin."  
  
            She flinched visibly, and for a moment her eyes flared up and seemed to glow in the firelight. A second later, however, she replied calmly, "What charade are you referring to exactly, Mr. Baggins? I was under the impression that you were happy for Pippin and I. Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you not believe that I desire to be his wife?"  
  
             "Oh, I believe that fine, Jasmine. And I'm sure Ruby does too. And what about Bella, did you ever find out how she was doing?"  
  
            Leaping to her feet, she cried out in indignation, her face flushed with anger. "I didn't realize that you took pleasure in snooping around in your guest's private belongings! How dare you do such a thing! You have no idea what you're talking about."  
  
             "Oh, really? Listen Jasmine, I read the whole letter, which might I add, you yourself left lying on the floor. I suppose you're just lucky I was the first to come along, instead of Pippin himself!"  
  
            She seemed to be almost at a loss, her face pale with frustration and hurt.  "Mr. Baggins, please!" The word echoed in Frodo's mind, reminding him of a similar plea the night before. "Believe me when I say I do care for Pippin!"  
  
            "Care for his gold, you mean!" He responded, feeling suddenly uncomfortable, and wondering if he had crossed the line. Before she answered, however, he had a revelation. The conversation he had overheard at the market suddenly came back to him, flooding into this mind in renewed clarity.  
  
            As he left the room, he took one last glance at a glowering Jasmine standing alone by the couch, still visibly shocked by his announcement. Taking the steps by twos, he left the inn and set out determinedly in the direction of the Proudfoot home.   
  
                                                            ****************  
  
            Well, how do you like it so far? I'm eager to know, whatever your opinion is! It's easy to do and is very much appreciated, so please review :)


	8. Answers and Further Confusion

            **Title:** Curving Paths  
  
            **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)****

            **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  


            **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.  
            

            **Note:** I hope you all like it, despite the fact that it's a lot of exposition. No worries, it sets things up for the interesting stuff in future chapters.  And even if you don't like it could you please review when you're done? I gladly accept any form of feedback! 

            **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.  
  
                                                            ****************  
            

            Sue Proudfoot lived up to her name. She was proud, nearly haughty, and eternally mindful of her own reputation among the townspeople, as well as the reputations of everyone else. Though somewhat elitist, she was always gracious around Frodo, being fully aware of his status with the king, though secretly agreeing with the town talk that he had been a little queer ever since he had come back to the Shire.  
  
            A well-dressed servant led Frodo into the parlor when he knocked at her door, and in a moment she glided in, hands clasped together demurely, all smiles and welcoming words. Her gray hair was swept into a stylish twist, a strangely youthful 'do for the older hobbit. She modeled the latest fashions in female clothing, a benefit of having her husband involved with many of the highest-class merchants who traveled through Hobbiton.  
              
             "Well, Mr. Baggins, what a pleasure!" she cooed in her well-bred drawl. "We see you so little in town these days; it's such a delight to see you out and about! To what to I owe this lovely surprise?"  
  
            Frodo was silent for a moment. He had been so eager to get proof of Jasmine's duplicity for Pippin that he had rushed over without considering how to present his rather odd request. Then again, he considered, she had sounded so upset at the market when discussing Jasmine that he was quite sure she would be game for anything having to do with revealing the truth about her.  
  
             "Mrs. Proudfoot, I hate to bring up a painful subject, but I had a few questions regarding Jasmine Greenbarrow." She flinched at the name, and he continued, "I believe you and your daughter were acquainted with her in some way?"  
  
             "Jasmine Greenbarrow!" The old woman began violently. "Acquainted with her? I suppose. Mind you, I only caught sight of her once, but my Lily knew her quite well, the poor thing! Why, that minx flaunted herself all over the place, and it was just too much for Lily's Bo! He took to her like a moth to a flame, and left Lily in the dust. That lass's heart was broken for months afterwards, she refused to leave the house for the shame of it!" She squinted at him, suddenly suspicious. "Why are you so curious about her, Mr. Baggins? Don't tell me she's got you trapped in her wicked web of seduction!"  
  
            He struggled to contain a ill-timed laugh at her melodrama. "No, no, Mrs. Proudfoot, not me. I'm concerned about a friend of mine. Do you know anything about her? Her family, her friends, anything?"  
  
            Mrs. Proudfoot pursed her lips. "Well, I can't say that I know much about her personally. I never truly met her in all honesty. Lily, though, Lily knew her. Some of her little friends were pretty close to Ms. Greenbarrow I believe." She paused, and seemed to think for a moment. "Now, where has that lass gone off to? She should be home by now." She turned and spoke to the attendant who stood by her chair. "Till, has Ms. Lily returned from her outing?"   
  
             "Yes ma'am, I believe she arrived a few moments ago. Would you like me to call her?"  
              
             "Yes, please tell her we have a guest who would like to speak with her. And tell her to hurry, for mercy's sake." Turning to Frodo, she added, clucking her tongue, "Sometimes that child can be as lolly-gaggin' as a dreamy tween!"  
  
            Frodo smiled faintly, inwardly wondering how the girl would react to his questions. Would she really be willing to open up to a near-stranger about the lass her promised had left her for? He found himself hoping that Lily Proudfoot has inherited her mother's eagerness to speak, no matter how personal the issue.  
  
            A few minutes later, Lily entered the room, apparently having been encouraged to hurry by the announcement of a guest interested in seeing her.   
  
            She took a seat by her mother, murmuring hello as she smoothed the pale lavender dress around her legs. Tucking a lock of light brown hair behind her ear, she gazed expectantly at Frodo.  
  
             "Lily, dear," her mother began, "You know Mr. Baggins of course. He has a few questions for you about Bo and that lass. Now, I want you to do your best to answer him, you hear?"  
  
             "Yes, Mother," she replied sweetly, but it was evident to Frodo that she was simply indulging the older Proudfoot; she was clearly too old to be addressed as though she were a child.   
  
            An awkward silence filled the room momentarily, as the two women stared at him curiously. Suddenly realizing that this was to the arrangement for their discussion, he turned to Sue.  
  
             "I'm very sorry, Mrs. Proudfoot, but would it be suitable if I spoke to your daughter privately? Perhaps it would be easier to discuss this with the least amount of people as possible. Of course, I have no right to ask you to leave your own parlor." Frodo used the most respectful voice he could muster, hoping she wouldn't be too offended but praying that she would leave them to be alone.  
  
             "Oh, no, no, of course, Mr. Baggins. Of course! I'll just scoot out of here, and leave you to your business. Take all time you need!" And with that she glided of the room, dress swishing behind her, clearly a tad irritated that she wouldn't be around to here the conversation.  
  
            Silence reigned once again when she was gone, but soon Frodo began.   
  
             "Lily, I know we don't know each other very well, and I hope I don't offend you with my questions, I'm simply quite eager to learn all I can about Ms. Greenbarrow. You see," he continued, deciding it would be best to be truthful from the beginning regarding the nature of his curiosity, "she is engaged to be to married to a good friend of mine, and I have recently come to the realization that her motivations may be...less than pure. I was wondering if you knew anything about where she comes from or who she associates with. I realize this may sound quite odd, but I feel that I must pursue this for my friend's sake, if you understand me."  
  
            She didn't reply right away, her pale green eyes focused downward as she fiddled nervously with her tea cup. After a moment, she began slowly, as if deliberating over what exactly she should share with him.  
  
             "That's quite alright, Mr. Baggins. I understand. Believe me, I understand, and I'll try to do my best to answer your question. It's true that I was acquainted with Jasmine, but I didn't know her that closely. My cousin Bella was friends with her, and that's how we met." She paused. "The first time I saw her, I was at Bella's house for her brother's birthday celebration. She had invited several of her friends from town over."   
  
            Stopping for a moment, her eyes darted up to glance at Frodo. His eyes were directed at her, eager, but compassionate. Encouraged, and deciding that he seemed kind enough to trust, she continued.   
  
             "She had mentioned her friends before, but this was the first time I'd seen most of them. They were all gathered together in her upstairs parlor, laughing and talking amongst themselves. They seemed nice enough. When Bella introduced me as her cousin, they all became quite friendly, and welcomed me without hesitation."   
  
            A faint blush tinged her delicate cheeks. "The lads were quite charming. They all seemed to have a companion with them, but nevertheless they gave me all the attention I could ask for. And the lasses were sweet as well. I remember seeing Jasmine there, but I hardly noticed her particularly. Everyone sort of blended together after a while. After that night, I went out with them several times. My mother and I visited Bella and her family last summer, her father being Mother's brother. During those weeks, especially, I became quite entangled with Bella's ways. Essentially I followed her wherever she went. You see, Bella, well, Bella's quite appealing, being lovely and talkative. I've always been rather envious of her looks, and the way she has with hobbits. She always seems to know the right thing to say around everyone, and she's ever so fun to be around."  
  
             "I'm sorry, Mr. Baggins, you don't care about this. I shouldn't be rambling on so." She dropped her eyes, once more, clearly embarrassed at the description she had given of her cousin.   
  
             "No, no, Lily, that was fine. Please, go on." Nodding his head downward in an attempt to catch her eyes, he finished, "Don't be embarrassed. I understand. And please call me Frodo."  
  
            Smiling slightly and taking a deep breath, she started once more. "Well, anyway, I must have gone to six parties the first week I was there, and this continued throughout my entire visit. I feel so naive now, looking back, that I didn't realize the truth right away. You see, they were all quite good-looking. All of them came from well-to-do families. Whenever they went out together, they were the envy of the town. Many hobbits would try their luck with the lasses, and all sorts of lasses would flaunt themselves in front of the lads. It was quite a rush for someone as plain as me to be out with them. I wasn't used to receiving that sort of attention. It wasn't until I had been out with them many times that I first began to understand the kind of 'fun' they would get into."  
  
             "After a while, when some of the initial novelty had worn off, I began to actually pay attention to the conversations they had between themselves. It was the lads I noticed first. In the beginning, I was under the impression that they were all seriously involved with certain lasses, as I said before. They always seemed to treat the lasses they brought along well, always playing the gentlehobbit, if you understand me, opening doors, pulling out chairs and such. I would hear them praising each of their companions specially, telling them they cared them and all, and so naturally I assumed that they were all taken, as it were. It was only after I had attended several parties with them that I began to realize that the lasses they entertained were never the same from week to week.   
  
            "This may not seem odd to you, Frodo, " she said, becoming more heated as she continued, "After all, they were mere lads, handsome and young, but you should have seen they way they spoke to them! The poor things didn't realize that they were most likely the third lass that week that those hobbits had called their "dearest." It was sickening, seeing how they'd charm their way into a lass's favors, fool her into thinking she was special, only to leave her. And you should have heard they way they'd talk! Always boasting and bragging about everyone they were seeing!" She shook her head in anger, seemingly too upset to go on.  
  
             "Thank you, Lily," said Frodo, "You've shed a lot of light on her friends and their various amusements. But what about Bella's female friends? Were they the same way? That would certainly explain a lot."  
  
             "Oh, yes, they were just as manipulative," Lily replied, regaining her momentum. "Only they went about things a tad differently, seeing as they could hardly do the wooing themselves, being lasses. They didn't need the money. Like I said, most of them could have bought just about anything they wanted, just by running off to papa. No, they simply took pleasure in what they did. By controlling the hobbits they were with, they fooled themselves into thinking they had achieved some sort of independence from their families. Honestly, the way they-"   
  
            Lily stopped herself and took a sip of her tea. "I'm sorry, I'm getting a little ahead of myself." She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear once again, in the nervous manner Frodo had become accustomed to throughout the conversation. "You see, Mr. Frodo, it was just a grand game for them. All the lasses would cheer each other on as each seduced a different hobbit, who naturally would be unable to resist their 'charms'. You see, they didn't just leave the poor lads they deceived a day or two later. No, indeed, they would play out the whole charade, sometimes continuing for months with one hobbit, just acting as sweet as anything. Oh, and they didn't complain when he just insisted on showering her with jewels and other gifts either. And this would go on for while, until eventually they'd get bored of whichever lad they were with at the moment, and leave the poor suitor in the dust, heartbroken and wondering what in all Middle-earth he had done wrong."  
  
            Lily lowered her eyes as she came to the end of her explanation, clearly surprised that she had spoken for that long, something she didn't seem to be in the habit of doing. Frodo bemusedly wondered just how much of that she would have told him if her mother had been in the room. Mostly, however, he was absorbing what she had said, slowly shifting various pieces of the puzzle into place in his mind. Lily certainly had cleared up a great deal of his questions about the friends Jasmine had written to in her letter, and the circumstances under which she had left Bo.   
  
             "Lily, I cannot tell you how grateful I am. I know this was likely the last thing you wanted to talk about, especially with someone you hardly know, but you have helped me a great deal. I fear I have held you far too long and your mother must be quite anxious to-"  
  
             "Wait a moment," she interjected suddenly, as Frodo stood, a strange look coming into her eyes as though something had just occurred to her. "This may sound odd, but you asked about Jasmine, and I have only just thought of something that may be useful to you. You see, as close as Jasmine was to Bella, she is rather the "odd lass out", besides me, of course, when I tag along. Not that she's disliked, mind you. No, she's one of the prettiest and forward of all of them. It's only that she wasn't originally part of 'the group.'"   
  
            "One of the hobbits, a lad named Will Baker, had met up with her in some village or other and taken her up as his latest lass. But when he introduced her to the rest of the group, for some reason they welcomed her with generally open arms. Bella told me that she was so sweet the lasses took to her at once, and the rest of the lads were just about falling all over each other, she was so good-looking. She and Will only continued on together for a few more days, but even after they were no longer seeing each other, Jasmine remained part of the group. And now everyone hardly remembers that she hasn't been with them all along."  
  
            As she spoke, Frodo had sunk back down into the chair he had vacated a moment before. He sighed inwardly. 'Yet another twist in the continuing mystery of Jasmine.'   
  
            At that moment Mrs. Proudfoot reentered the room, looking immensely curious and clearly anxious for Frodo to leave so that she could grill her daughter about their conversation. 'After all, it's not everyday that mysterious Mr. Baggins stops by on some sort of secret business,' she thought to herself.   
  
            Seeing Frodo stand and don his cloak once more, she addressed him, saying, "Oh, Mr. Baggins, it was such a pleasure to have you. Thank you ever so much for stopping by! I trust Lily answered all your questions." Ushering him to the door, she added as a final note, "Feel free to drop in whenever you're nearby. It's always a delight. Good day!"  
  
            After thanking the women once more, and leaving Lily with a conspiratorial wink when her mother's back was turned, Frodo headed down the street to the left as he continued out of town. He had much to share with his friends, being quite eager to hear their thoughts about Jasmine's background and to talk about what their next step should be in dealing with the girl.  
  
            Merely thinking of Jasmine caused his blood to boil in anger and frustration for Pippin. What those folks did was positively…man-like! He couldn't imagine any respectable hobbit carrying on like they did.  Truly, their careless and willful behavior was a shame to all hobbits everywhere.   
  
                                                            ****************  
            

            Hope you liked it! The next chapter should be out soon, where we really get into some angst, romance, drama, etc...so maybe that will be a little bit more fun :) Please remember to review! Thanks.


	9. A Few Chance Meetings

             **Title:** Curving Paths  
  
             **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)****

             **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  


             **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

             **Note: **Hello everyone! Though it's been a while since my last update, I can assure you that I now have the rest of the fic planned out, and should have it completed soon, probably in 2-4 chapters.  Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! Once you finish reading this chapter, I would really appreciate some feedback, whether it be positive or negative. Believe me when I say that though encouragement is always welcome, I also enjoy constructive criticism as well.  

             This chapter starts out on a little different note, as this scene is taking place at the same time as Frodo's scenes these past couple of chapters.

             **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.

                                                            ****************

            "Master Took! Welcome, welcome. Please, make yourself at home."

            Pippin nodded affably, shaking hands with an older hobbit with silver hair.  Due to his status as the next Thain of the Shire, Pippin was frequently obliged to make such house calls to certain influential families when he was in their area.  Not that he minded overly much.  He knew community visits weren't everyone's cup of tea, but he rather enjoyed them.  They were an opportunity to learn all the latest news, in the economic and practical sense, of course, as well as the social.  Not to mention the wonderful food and drink that was generally provided.  Besides, he was well in need of a distraction at the moment.

            "We were pleased to learn you were in town, Peregrin," Milo Chemps began as he reclined back into a plush chair by the fireplace and filled his pipe.  "You certainly look well.  Here to see Master Baggins, I presume?"

            Pippin set his jaw and bit down on his tongue to keep from saying anything rash.  He nodded curtly before hurriedly speaking, "Pippin, please.  But I hear congratulations are in order, Milo.  Please send my warmest regards to Dalia.  When will the wedding take place?"

            "Oh, who knows, my dear lad? The household has been simply chaotic since the moment they announced their intentions.  The uproar is getting altogether unbearable, I tell you. That is why I am so relieved to have you here. Gives me an excuse to lock myself up away from it all for a while," he said with a wink.  

            Pippin grinned. "Glad that I could of service.  I did notice a certain…excitement in the air when I arrived.  Is Mrs. Chemps faring well?"

            "Oh, you know Dora.  If it isn't one thing, it's another.  Fortunately two of my nieces are here to help with the arrangements.  Not that two extra females on hand is always enjoyable, mind you.  But they have rather level-heads, thanks be, and the eldest was just married last year, so she has some experience in the matter.  They'll be staying until the wedding."

            "Where is their home?"

            "Well, Melli, the eldest, lives about a day's ride north of here, out in the true country, you know.  But Diamond still lives in Long Cleeve with her parents, Dora's sister and her husband."

            "Ah, Long Cleeve?  Lovely.  When I was young, I would travel there often with my family. Its forests are marvelous for a young lad's mischief."

            "I can imagine.  Now, Pippin, have you heard about the sale of Halfred Crick's estate?"

            "Yes, yes.  A grand piece of property, from what I've learned."

            "Indeed.  I was curious as to whether you were knew of anyone prepared to purchase the southern fields?"

            And so began a rather tedious discussion on Shire real estate, a topic Pippin grew bored of quite quickly, but was obligated to expound upon for some time.  Finally the pair was interrupted by a knock at the door. "Uncle Milo?"

            "Just a moment, Pippin," the man in question spoke as he rose from his chair. He opened the door and ushered in a young girl whom Pippin gathered to be one of his nieces.

            The lass looked unsure for a moment when she saw that there was a guest in the room, but said quietly, "Uncle, Aunt Dora sent me to ask you whether you thought it was appropriate to invite her second cousins from Archet.  We send out the invitations this week." 

            "Well, Diamond, you can tell her that we'll discuss that later.  Here, allow me to introduce Mr. Peregrin Took.  Certainly you know who he is, eh?"

            The delicately-featured lass colored slightly at this before turning to Pippin, offering her hand, and saying, "It is truly a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Took, we have heard so much about you."

            Pippin bent to kiss her hand as was expected.  She was good-looking in a lithe sort of way.  Just a little wisp of a thing, really.  A few strawberry-blonde curls had escaped her pins, tickling her small rounded lips and highlighting her honey-colored eyes.  Lacked Jasmine's impressive curves though…Startled at that train of thought, Pippin shut his eyes for a moment, then said:

            "Ms. Diamond, I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.  I was just telling your uncle how much I adore the countryside by your home.  Are you located anywhere near Evergreen Pond, by any chance?"  

            Diamond widened slightly in surprise at his question.  Seemed he knew as much about her as she had heard of him.  "Why, yes, actually.  It lies within walking distance of our house, towards its north end.  How are you familiar with it, Mr. Took?"

            'Adorable.' For a moment, Pippin was horribly frightened that he had spoken aloud.  When neither of the faces of the other two chanced perceptibly, he realized with relief that he in fact had not.  Still, a sinking feeling has settled in his stomach.  What was happening? Her voice had been so light and soft and young.  He could have happily listened to her lilt on all day… 'What?'

            Pippin cleared his throat nervously. "My cousins and I used to swim in it during the summertime when I was young.  I'm afraid that was some time ago though.  I haven't been there for years."

            "Well, it is as lovely as ever, Mr. Took.  Mr. Gamgee even planted one of his Golden Trees nearby.  It feels like a paradise," she finished shyly. 

            "In that case I will be sure to visit soon," Pippin replied, his eyes twinkling, "To remember old memories, I suppose. Or perhaps make new ones." What was he saying? He sounded positively…flirtatious!  Desperately trying to remind himself of his status as an engaged hobbit, he bit his cheek and spoke:

             "Well, Milo, thank you for kindness, but I'm afraid I must now excuse myself to the inn.  I believe someone is awaiting my return."

            Mr. Chemps smiled knowingly and walked him to the door.  On an impulse Pippin looked back and called, "Glad to meet you Diamond!" before turning abruptly and jogging out of the yard.

****************

            The hills were beautiful at dawn.  So pondered Frodo early the next morning as he sat by his bedroom's window, peering out into the slowly awakening world.  The scenario was familiar to him.  Though he never willingly chose to quit his dreams so prematurely, that he did so was often a blessing. Especially now. He told himself it was still only early August, but perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, for it seemed that if he concentrated hard enough, he could detect a hint of autumn crispness in the air.  

             'Now is not the time to hide yourself away in self-pity,' he thought to himself, 'Enjoy the season while you still can.'

            And with that Frodo stalked out the door of his room, making sure to grab his vest from its hanging place on his bedpost. He crept past the bedroom door of Sam and Rosie, both of whom were still slumbering peacefully.

            Once he was outside, he breathed deeply of the scent-laden air. This was his favorite time of day, it being the purest.  Dawn was the only time when the world was still clean and fresh, as yet unpolluted by anyone and anything.  

            He followed a well-worn path that curved along the edge of Bag End before extending itself away from that hill, winding down by the edge of the wood.  His feet barely stirred the small blades of grass that clumped in between cracks of the pressed dirt.  At a certain point, Frodo turned into the trees, following familiar landmarks until he reached a trickling brook.  He crawled to what he had privately labeled his own rock, a sun-baked boulder at the other edge of the creek.  

            Stretching out with a sigh as his back warmed comfortably, Frodo shut his eyes, satisfied with the destination he had reached.  Within moments he had drifted into sleep once more.

****************  
  


            Hours later Frodo shifted groggily, pulling himself out of the haze of slumber.  Without opening his eyes, he realized what had awoken him.  Somewhere farther down the banks of the brook, a hobbit lass was singing a simple tune that the wives often sang whilst doing the wash or the cooking.  A smile crept across his face as he imagined her shaking out the clothes she had carried down in a basket, pushing up her sleeves, and dipping them into the water as it rushed by.  

             _"..and I said nay, sir, ye must wait til my heart turns_

                _It's so much the pity that it's makin' your heart burn_

_                But I won't bring such shame on me mother…"_

            Some may have called it a 'common' song, but the pleasant, easy melody was lovely to listen to, especially when it was sung by such a fair voice.  He could tell she was coming closer, as the notes were growing louder and more clear by the moment.  

            Slowly he raised himself up onto one elbow, lazily surveying the rocks about him.  As the lass came into view, he frowned slightly. 'Strange, no basket.  Must simply be out for a walk.'

            She stepped aside for a moment, venturing onto the opposite bank to admire a small cluster of daisies peeping out from under the sprawling root of a nearby tree.  Her back still facing him, Frodo hopped down and made his way over to her.  

            "Hello," he spoke cheerfully.

            The lass whirled around, a bright smile on her face, but it dropped instantly.  

            Frodo blanched and stepped backwards.  "What are you doing here?" he spoke in something akin to a hiss.

            Jasmine glared up at him defiantly.  "I believe I have the right to walk alongside a public river, Mr. Baggins.  Would you kindly step aside and let me be?"

            He almost retreated, but something made him stop.  He had a feeling if he said anything more to her, it should be further rebuke, but he just couldn't bring himself to start.  He didn't have the energy to engage in any sort of argument at the moment, let alone to figure out her mind games.

            "Why are you marrying Pippin?" he asked simply, in earnest curiosity.

            "Well, for my own sadistic pleasure, of course, Mr. Baggins," she responded wryly, a sneer wiped across her mouth.  "Haven't you learned as much already?"

            Frodo sighed.  Perhaps it had been naïve of him to expect them to be able to actually carry a conversation civilly.

             "I was merely under the impression that it wasn't your style to…hold on so long."

            "Thought I'd scoop up the jewelry and run, eh?  Guess you don't know as much about me as you seem to fancy you do."

            "You mean to go through with it then?"

            She turned to him with a withering look of disgust. "Yes, I mean 'go through with it.' "

            He couldn't help himself.  "Ever planning on introducing him to your…friends?"

            "Perhaps." After directing this to his face, she spun on her heels and proceeded to pick her way upstream in the opposite direction. 

            As she left, Frodo called, "I know you're different from them Jasmine!"

            Her small shoulders stiffened, and she almost turned back, but apparently changed her mind, continuing away from Frodo at an even quicker pace.

            He considered returning to his nap, but found his nerves were altogether too stirred up for a satisfactory rest.  Shaking his head, the dark-haired hobbit sighed and headed back to Bag End.

                                                            ****************

            Thanks for reading!  I plan on the next chapter being finished, at latest, in early September, probably much sooner.  Remember to review, no matter what your opinion is!


	10. Choices and Clues

            **Title:** Curving Paths  
  
            **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)****

            **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  


            **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

  
            **Note: **Some parts of this chapter may be a little confusing (or perhaps they won't be.) If you do get a little lost, just keep reading, and some things should be explained. 

            **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.

                                                            ****************

            When Jasmine returned to the inn, her nerves astir and her fingers trembling, she leant against the door to take in a deep breath.  With weary feet, she stepped quietly across her room to turn the adjoining knob.  Peeking in as silently as she could, she smiled at Pippin's sleepy form, still stretched out across his bed.  

            'Silly thing didn't even lock up when he returned last night,' she thought to herself with a warm shake of the head. 'I might have taken advantage of him during the night.' She would have laughed at the un-likeliness of that event, if the idea that certain hobbits would easily suspect such an act of her had not prickled at the back of her mind.

            Lowering herself into the chair of a nearby table, Jasmine dropped her head into her hands.  Things were getting entirely out of control.  Her temple ached terribly, a sensation that was all too familiar to her these days.  With slow-moving limbs she released her hair from the few clips she had bothered to put in that morning.  All she had wanted was a peaceful outing on her own…

            Too much to ask, seemingly.  

            _Why are you marrying Pippin?_

The question clutched at her already-throbbing head.  She instinctively repeated the same well-worn excuses to herself, begging the nagging voice currently gnawing at her logic to accept them once and for all.  

            'You musn't let _him_ down, you musn't… You're _his_ only hope…This is the opportunity you've been waiting for.'

            But the voice persisted.  'Would _he_ really want this of you? Would _he_ really wish unhappiness upon you for the sake of his own gain?'

            'What unhappiness?' her sensible side countered, 'To be married to the Thain? He is kind and handsome and, and…cheerful and-'

            An image sprang to her mind, unexpected and frankly quite startling.  Her thoughts wandered back to that cottage, with the crimson-red door and matching curtains; small, but with all the potential for perfection.  In her mind's eye she traversed the familiar hall to the left and into the room whose very remembrance brought tears to her eyes.  

            And there it was. That portrait in its ancient chipped wooden frame, the only object on the stool that hadn't been buried in dust, though it had occupied the same position for the greatest number of years.  

            She knew _he_ picked it up and stared at it almost daily.  When her tiny self had gazed in askance at his tears, _he_ had told her that the love he had shared with the object of the sketch had made the pain worthwhile, that a short time together was well-worth a lifetime of loneliness.

            The impact of this struck at Jasmine's heart.  Had she been wrong all this time? Had their efforts been in vain?  Would _he_ even accept the comfort and joy that she would buy for him at such a cost?  

            Perhaps she hadn't been so self-sacrificial after all.  Maybe she had craved this lifestyle for an entirely different reason altogether, one that she had kept carefully in check with constant affirmations to the contrary.  Whenever a doubt had arisen in her mind, she had extinguished it, always mindful of her 'cause.'  Just what had her 'cause' turned into?

            A whimper escaped her mouth then, and to Jasmine it seemed as if the entire room echoed with the noise.  Determined to escape the cloud of uncertainty and regret that threatened to overwhelm her, she stood quickly and began to prepare Pippin's first breakfast.  'That Frodo has put me in a sour mood,' she told herself, 'As soon as Pippin awakens, I'll perk right up.'

****************

            Frodo returned to a kitchen steaming with the scent of fried potatoes, spiced sausages, and thick hotcakes.  He smiled his appreciation to Rose, whose forehead glistened with her efforts.  She gestured for him to take a seat at the table, and moments later Sam joined them as well.  

            The two hobbits exchanged a glance as they watched Rose move back and forth from the oven to the table, setting the plates and silverware meticulously.  They'd each begged her to allow them to ask a lass from town to come help with the cooking, but she would have none of it.  She was only feeding three, she told them, what was the harm?  She'd fed more than that back home.

            Lately, though, her movements had seemed slower somehow, and Sam had told his friend that she would frequently sit and rest in the middle of the wash or the meal preparation.  It had, in fact, been one of the reasons the trip had been most welcome.  But though Rose did seem more energized than she had been, it was clear to both of the men in her life that she tired easily, more easily than a normal lass.

             "Well," she exclaimed with satisfaction as she plopped down beside them with the final platter of food.  "Here we are!" 

             "Now Frodo," she continued, her cheeks still flushed, "Where were you off to so early this morn?"

            He chewed slowly. "Ah, just took a walk by the brook and rested by its banks.  It's rather peaceful out there. Seems like miles from the village."

            Sam looked troubled.  "Is your own room so lacking, Frodo? Is there any comfort we can add that would help?"

            Wary of the fact that Sam was still in the dark as to his true state of his illness, as he had finally admitted to himself it was, Frodo answered vaguely, "No, no, my room is fine.  It is more pleasant to be outdoors, that's all."

            Sam just nodded, evidently not entirely satisfied, but willing to let it be for the time being.  

            Soon Frodo excused himself to his study, where his friends knew he would continue the work his cousin had begun.  He had made quite a bit of progress with his writing, pages and pages had been filled with tales that were often too difficult to dwell on for long.  Frequently Frodo would set his quill down and meander around the garden for a time, enjoying the fresh air and presumably reminding himself that the War had ended, before returning to the book.

            And so the afternoon was passed quietly, but enjoyably.  Sam was making his near-daily assessment of his garden's progress, a task he had undergone almost immediately after they had re-acquired the property.  The fertile tract of land had been badly torn up during its hostile occupation, but with the help of the Lady's soil, it was coming along quite nicely.  Rose had drifted off in the midst of her needlework, covered comfortably with a blanket her thoughtful husband had draped about her.  

****************

            And still Pippin slept.  Jasmine felt as if he had been abed for hours longer than necessary, but the torment of her thoughts may well of exaggerated the length of time. 

            After fiddling with the porridge she had fixed countless times and rearranging the cushions on the furniture, she halted in the middle of the floor.  If she were alone for any longer, the agony she felt may well overwhelm her.  To wake Pippin up intentionally would involve entering his room, which she was loathe to do at the moment, for fear of its implications.  They were already involved in the questionable situation of occupying two adjoining rooms with no chaperone present, a fact Pippin had mentioned he hoped never reached the ears of his relatives.  

            With strange desperation, she fled the room, just in time to collide with a sandy-haired hobbit passing by at the same moment.  Gazing about at the neatly folded pile of linens and towels now scattered across the floor, Jasmine's hand flew to her mouth.

             "Oh, I am so sorry! Forgive me, I was not paying the least bit of attention to where my feet were taking me."

            The lad flushed as he watched the good-looking lass bend to help collect the sheets. "Please, don't-don't worry yourself, Miss.  I shouldn't have been walking so fast either."

            Soon they both rose, the pile successfully restored to his arms.  There was a moment of awkward silence before Jasmine spoke.

             "Your father works downstairs, doesn't he?" At his nod, she continued, "Finnlock, is it?"

            She fought to contain a smile as his freckles reddened.  "Aye, Miss, but most folks just call me Finn.  That is, if you'd like.  Not that you must. It's only-"

             "Finn is fine," she interjected kindly.  "My name is Jasmine, Jasmine Greenbarrow.  Pleased to meet you."

            He hesitated for a moment, as if searching for the correct response.  In the end, he simply repeated, "Please to meet you" with a self-conscious nod of his head.  

            Jasmine deliberated returning to her room, at a loss for what to do now that she had left it.  But, remembering the restlessness that plagued her earlier, she remained in the hall.

             "Do you work here often?" she asked of the lad, who, she noted, was a mite on the thin side.  

             "Oh, aye," he answered, clearly nervous with the conversation, but relieved to be speaking of something familiar.  "Most days I come in, to help out Da."

             "I see." She paused. "Do you live here in the village?"

             "Oh, Da and I live with my mum a little ways from here, past the mill, if you follow, by the grand hill with the fishing pond."

             "Ah, yes, I believe I caught sight of the lake when I arrived.  Lovely spot."

             "Aye."  A beat passed. "Do you live nearby, Miss Greenbarrow?"

            Her face darkened for a moment, and she nearly responded with her usual, "Oh no, quite a ways from here, actually.  I'm just visiting for a time."

            But something stopped her this time, weary as she was of the secrets she carried. "My father and I live out east a ways, by the border of the Farthing.  It's about a two or three day ride from Hobbiton, I believe."

            He simply nodded at this, and Jasmine found it rather amusing that the admission, which had seemed so momentous to her, meant so little to him.  Of course, he had no way of knowing how few people this information was shared with, Jasmine herself often labeled a 'butterfly', not so much for her social flair, but rather for her travel.  In the past several months, she realized with an ever-sinking heart, she had spent much less time at home than she had spent visiting all the different lads and lasses she had grown to call friends, day trips often stretching to weeks at one hall or another.

            She thought back to the conversation that had loomed over her all morning.  Frodo's last cry echoed in her mind, taunting her with its potentially numerous meanings.  Try as she might to convince herself that it had been a bluff, she couldn't help but nervously consider the alternative.

            Jasmine comforted herself with the fact that he hadn't seemed cruel; there had been no malicious pleasure in his verbal jabs.  He was simply a loyal friend, worried for Pippin's safety, afraid of what _she_ might to do him.  Though her mouth had twisted ironically at this, her face soon softened with a gentle determination.  

             "Finn, would you do me a favor and arrange our carriage to be pulled up front?  Mr. Took and I will be down in a moment."

****************

            Though thoroughly absorbed in his writing, Frodo was the only one inside and alert when a lad knocked on his door with the letter.  It wasn't unusual for the post to come every few days, and he accepted the paper with a distracted thanks, barely glancing at the writing on the envelope, eager to return to a particularly crucial chapter.

            Returning to his study, Frodo drew his dull-edged, brass knife from his drawer and sliced open the post without much care to whom it was addressed.  None of the three inhabitants of Bag End were averse to such familiarity, and it was in fact quite common to open the other's mail, though it was far more usual for such a letter to be addressed to the entire household.

            Which is why the words his eyes skimmed lazily were such a surprise.

            _Dearest Jasmine, _

            _I pray you don't mind me writing you here at this hole.  Being anxious to contact you, I rode to Lacey Tillburough's home to speak with your friend Bella who graciously informed me of where you were at the moment. (Don't fret, I did not tell her who I was.)  _

            _The twenty-first of August is fast approaching.  I do not mean to pull you away if you are having an enjoyable time, but, if you are able, you know I would love for you to be home for me on that day.  I thought we could walk to the cemetery, and perhaps lay out some of the daffodils from your garden, which are blooming beautifully.  _

            _Please write if you can, or simply visit, which would perhaps be even better.  The cottage has been dreadfully quiet in your absence.  _

_                                                         Da_

            Knowing he should have torn his eyes away at the first phrase had little effect on Frodo.  His dedication to his cause, noble as it was, had somewhat overridden his honor for a moment, and that moment was all it took for Jasmine's secrets to unravel themselves a little further.

            He noted with interest the sender's location, a small village outside of Bywater, just inside the West Farthing.  Banksfield, it was called, and Frodo was well-aware that the town was looked upon as a less affluent area than its neighbor to the east.  The fact that the hobbit lived in a cottage, rather than a hole or perhaps a Hall, said much in itself.

            'Slowly,' he thought carefully, 'Slowly, the pieces begin to fit together.' 

            Frodo's attention was distracted with a knock at the door, the second in the space of a mere half hour.  He rose to his feet in slight annoyance before he realized that Rosie had awakened and already welcomed the visitors inside.

            He swept a hand through his hair in an attempt to tame the dark curls, donned his dress-coat, and stepped out of the room, though not before tucking the short correspondence into the safety of his inner vest pocket.

            He approached the entryway in surprise at the sight of Pippin greeting first Rosie, than a flustered Sam who had been called inside from his garden.  'He must have learned of their return somehow,' Frodo supposed. 'He certainly did not come for a further audience with me.'

            As his eyes were trained on the hobbit in the doorway, the soft voice from his side startled him noticeably. 

            "Hello, Frodo," Jasmine spoke in a low tone that nearly reached a whisper, "I feel I must speak with you at once."

****************

            I know I'm leaving it hanging a little, but the next part will be rather meaty and important so I thought I'd let it have its own chapter.  That chapter should be out soon, though now that school has started, things are rather unpredictable.  Of course, reviews are ample motivation, so we'll see what happens…


	11. Confessions

            **Title:**  Curving Paths  
  
            **Rating:** PG-13 (Just to be on the safe side...Probably mostly PG)  
            

            **Disclaimer:** I am not, and do not claim to be, at all associated with J.R.R. Tolkien, the brilliant author of Lord of the Rings, whose characters I am borrowing temporarily.  
  
            **Time Period: **Mid to late 1420 of the Third Age, by Shire Reckoning.

            **_Additional Note:_** This is a **revised** version of the previous draft of the story.  The plot has remained intact, for the most part; I have simply made a few adjustments so that everything fits into canon a bit more smoothly.

            **SPECIAL NOTE: As of September 8, 2003, several parts of this story have been notably revised, even more so than this last note indicated.  My chapters are quite short, so if you did read them at any time before this date, I would suggest going back to look them through, if only briefly.  Though I would recommend looking at them all, as all have been adjusted, though some only to a minor degree, I would also say that Chapters Five, Six, Seven, and perhaps Ten have been especially changed.  None of the change is major in the least, but I believe the revisions do give the story better direction and consistency.  **

**            Also, I hope none of you are frightened off by this chapter. Trust me when I say I do not mean to veer away from canon when it comes to hobbit marriages and such.  There is still more to this fic left to go.**

            **I hope to have the next few chapters out soon.  Please don't forget to review with your impressions and opinions. They mean a great deal to me.  And now for the story…**

************

            To Frodo's surprise, Pippin soon joined Jasmine, standing beside her with one possessive arm around her waist.  Clearly this wasn't the clandestine meeting he had at first suspected.

            Sam and Rose had slipped out, he saw, probably at Pippin's request.  Leading the couple to the table,  he drew a silent breath.  He hated the bad blood that lay between Pippin and himself and desperately hoped he could work things out without having to drive his friend further away.

            Once they were situated, Pippin began, "Frodo, the first thing we'd like to do is apologize." Jasmine nodded, her hand clasped in Pippin's, while Frodo's brows raised at his choice of words. _We'd_ like to apologize?

            "We haven't been entirely honest with you, and we're afraid that this has caused some…undue confusion and anxiety on your part."

            Frodo's face must have betrayed his bewilderment, and Pippin continued with much chagrin, "I knew about Jasmine's letter, Frodo."

            "You knew?" his surprised cousin exclaimed loudly, "Why would you purposefully deceive me about such a thing?  And how could you know and still-and still-"

            "And still care for Jasmine? Because, Frodo, I watched her write it." 

            Jasmine cut it in, pulling her hand from Pippin's supportive grip in order to gesture as she spoke. "Mr. Baggins, you must understand.  The lass I wrote to in that letter, and the lasses I mentioned, I _was_ close to them once." She paused and gazed at Pippin as she continued, "But not anymore. Those words, they were false.  I only wrote them because they were what Bella and the others expected of me." 

            "But why?" Frodo questioned, still thoroughly puzzled.  "If you are no longer friends, then why the pretence?"

            Jasmine lowered her head at this, her face coloring for a moment, and a nagging suspicion that Pippin had fabricated this story to protect Jasmine's honor began to cloud Frodo's thoughts.  

            "Do you remember what you said to me yesterday, Mr. Baggins? That I was different than the others?" At his slight nod, she said in a hushed voice, "Well, it's the truth.  I am different, only they don't know it.  My name isn't Greenbarrow, it's Burrows."

            Frodo shook his head, the name meaning nothing to him.  

            "I suppose you are rather sheltered here at Bag End, Mr. Baggins, and I know you aren't the sort to willingly seek out hurtful talk, however common spread it may be. You see, my father's full name was once Shiriff Burrows."

            "He was a shiriff? What sort of gossip could come from that?" 

            Frodo saw Pippin flinch, but realized that he was willing himself not to interject his own comments into the conversation, rather doing his utmost to let Jasmine talk things through, merely providing his presence as support enough.

            "Not a _true_ Shiriff, Mr. Baggins.  One of…one of _Sharkey's_," the last word a mere whisper.

            Finally understanding dawned.  He uttered a slow, "Oh," before considering the import of her words.  Most of the hobbits corralled into Sharkey's well over-staffed band of Shiriffs had been coerced into doing so, forced as their homes and families were threatened.  But there was another sort, generally including those few who were close to Lotho Sackville-Baggins to begin with, who volunteered for the position, and from what he could gather, it seemed Jasmine's father had fallen into the latter category.  These unfortunate hobbits had been thoroughly shunned when Sharkey's reign fell, most quite deservedly.

            "And you hid this from your new acquaintances by changing your name," Frodo finished for her.

            She nodded before continuing, her voice pleading, "Yes, Mr. Baggins. Please, now that I've found Pippin, whom I do care for, if you'd only believe me, now I wish I could never see those lasses and lads again.  I detest them…I think I always have, but at the same time I loved them, I loved what they had and what they were capable of achieving.  But I…I'm still dreadfully ashamed. I just-I just hate to think of what they would say were they to discover who I really am."

            As Frodo begin to process her confession, his mind flew to his actions of late, and his face fell in horror.  "And then I found that letter, and I thought-Oh! I'm so terribly sorry! I accused you of those appalling things.  Can you even think to forgive me?"

            "Oh, Mr. Baggins, of course I will, but there's no need.  I was just so horribly upset when you confronted me, upset at myself, mainly, for letting my plans achieve their directly opposite effect, and I lashed out at you, quite unfairly.  It was my fault from the beginning.  I should have told you straight off, it was only-"

            "Well, I might as well join the blame-fest," Pippin interrupted, the beginnings of a cheeky grins tugging at the corners of his mouth.  "I won't sit here and let Jas take all the fault.  I helped her with the whole thing, though I did tell her that she was safe in telling you, that you of all people would understand.  But she didn't know you then and was still frightened.  I agreed to give you her other name and to say little of her home, family, and past.  I should have refused to do so in the beginning, considering all we've been through, Frodo."

            At the mention of her home and family, Frodo exclaimed a quiet, "Oh! I nearly forgot," reaching into his vest and taking out the letter from her father.  "This came for you today, Jasmine, and in my defense, I read completely ignorant as to whom it was addressed, initially anyway.  I hope I may lay any additional fault on Curiosity, if you understand."

            Jasmine took the paper from his hands, and as she read it, tears welled in her eyes.  "It is merely the eighteenth today, thanks be. I may still reach him on time.  Well, Mr. Baggins, if you've read this much, than the rest of the story may as well be drawn out. The twenty-first of August is the day my mum passed away one year ago.  As if the grief was not enough, this only added to my Da's burden, for people can be cruel, and they said that the shame she felt over her husband's position had brought about her sickness."

            Tears were freely streaming down her cheeks now.  "But it isn't true, Mr. Baggins, it isn't! My mum was always a sickly sort, through heaven knows my Da and I loved her more than anything.  Truth to be told, she was the reason he joined as a Shiriff to begin with.  With the Big Folk always out "collecting," there was hardly a crop left to be sold, and my Da was at the end of his rope with want of money.  He was terribly afraid he wouldn't have the means to provide for my mum's care, so he took what he could, though it brought him great shame.  And here I've all but abandoned him in my selfishness!"

            She buried head in Pippin's chest, and he stroked her hair gently, whispering soft words of comfort in her ear.

            "Jasmine," Frodo spoke, "from what I can understand, your father is most willing to welcome you back, and joyfully at that." He waited a beat for her to raise her head again.  "Thank you for telling me all that you have.  I'm sorry we didn't start out on the best of feet, but if you'd let me, I would like to start from the beginning.  For now, though, I think I'm right in my assumption that you would like to get to Banksfield as soon as possible.  But when you return, I would be proud to get to know Jasmine Burrows, whatever others may say."

            Standing, he escorted the two outside to their waiting carriage.  Jasmine whispered a final expression of gratitude to Frodo before Pippin helped to lift her in, though Frodo could not shake the guilt that told him he should be the one apologizing.  

            "I'm so sorry, Pip," he murmured before the other hobbit climbed up as well.  "I don't know what was wrong with me.  Forgive me if I hurt her…or you."

            Pippin studied his cousin and remembered the concern he had felt upon his arrival at Bag End some days ago.  "Don't worry yourself, Frodo, please.  Perhaps now that this little incident has been cleared up, you can get some sleep, eh?" It was meant to sound playful, but Pippin was more than half serious, and Frodo could tell.

            "Yes," he answered, with more assurance than he felt, "Perhaps you're right." 

            He soon waved to the two as their horses drew them down the road to the inn where they would stop to collect their belongings before traveling to Banksfield.  Knowing he should be immensely relieved did not help to contain his unease, though naturally he was pleased that Jasmine did not pose the threat he had once thought. 

            The sheer excitement of _doing something_ had been a lovely change from the slow weeks that had drifted past after he had stepped down as Mayor.  His writing absorbed him for much of the time, it was true, but periods in which he was left alone or unoccupied for a long while were dangerous.  

            'Things should be better now that Sam and Rose are back to stay,' he reminded himself, thinking fondly of Rose's gentle care the past several months. Not sighting them in the garden, he concluded that they must have gone for a walk to give him ample privacy.  

            Setting off in the direction he guessed they had taken, he walked briskly, knowing how curious they would be by this point and deciding that it was a lovely day for a stroll to think things through.

************

            Look for the next chapters in coming days.  As always, don't forget to review with any thoughts whatsoever.


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